Hustle
by Eryn
Summary: Dean still gets into trouble even though he doesn't hustle this time


Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW. I'm just borrowing the characters to play with for a while!

Set after First Season episode: The Benders. A one-shot before I get onto a larger story. Enjoy.

**HUSTLE**

**by Eryn Grant**

"So you gonna ask me?" Dean flopped down in a chair opposite Sam. He stared at his brother willing him to look up.

Sam ignored Dean tapping away on his laptop. He reached for his beer and took a quick swig. "No," he replied turning back to his research without looking at Dean. Sam knew that his actions would annoy Dean but he just couldn't resist baiting his brother for a change. He bit the inside of his lip so he didn't laugh. He could feel Dean staring at him and fidgeting in his chair. He doggedly tapped at random keys ignoring Dean determined not to look up or ask the question.

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam shifting in his seat trying to get comfortable. He jarred his shoulder and he cursed under his breath. Leaning back in his chair, Dean idly surveyed the bar as he raised his hand to his shoulder hoping that Sam wouldn't notice the movement. He pressed his hand to his shoulder trying to stop the pain from the burn.

Dean stared around the bar again. It was his kind of bar. Noisy patrons, loud music, smoky and the waitresses were hot. With his other hand he took a swig of his own beer. Turning in his seat, Dean caught the eye of one of the waitresses and signalled for another two beers. Dean flirted with her for a moment when she brought their beers over and removed their empty bottles. Dean stared after her as she walked back to the bar. Sam didn't even look up just grabbed the second bottle of beer and took a swig.

The burning sensation in his shoulder subsided to a dull ache and Dean dropped his hand holding his arm across his chest to stop the weight of his arm pulling on the burn. Dean turned his attention back to Sam narrowing his eyes at his brother. He was going to win this time. Dean shifted in his seat again. Leaning forward he picked up a beer mat and tapped it in time to the music. He wiggled and fidgeted in his seat and "accidentally" jolted their table. He grinned knowing that Sam was weakening. He could read his brother's body language so well. Dean knew he risked being hit with the laptop but he just couldn't help himself. He could smell victory. With a small smile Dean kicked his brother's shin under the table.

"Dean," Sam looked up scowling at his brother. "That hurt," he said rubbing at his shin. "And it wasn't fair. You cheated."

Dean raised his eyes at Sam at the comment. "What are you? Five?" Dean teased.

"I'm not the one fidgeting like a little kid and kicking the table. And then me," Sam glared at Dean. Dean grinned mischievously. He relaxed his arm not wanting Sam to notice that he was in pain. Instead he gave Sam a triumphant smile. "You're such a girl. It was just a little tap," he folded his arms carefully across his chest. "So you gonna ask now?"

Sam scowled at Dean but gave up. He leaned back folding his arms. "OK," he said. "How much did you hustle this time?"

Dean gave him a hurt look. "I didn't hustle this time," he protested. "I was just an innocent bystander."

Sam raised his eyes. "Dean Winchester and the word innocent in the same sentence is one hell of a notion for me to get my head around," Sam teased. He gave Dean a small smile to take the sting out of his words but also because he knew that his brother was telling the truth. Dean hadn't been looking for a pool game he had been challenged to one by a group of scruffy looking men.

Sam had watched fascinated as his brother played winning every game, except the first two games, easily. Dean had circled the table as though it was prey he was stalking measuring up every angle and slant of the table as he carefully took each of his shots the balls disappearing down the pockets one by one. Sam also knew that Dean losing the first two games wasn't bad luck. It was his brother's way of sizing up his opponents. During those two games, Dean would have learned and memorised his opponent's strengths and weaknesses and then used them against his challenger in the following games.

Dean's movements were fluid and graceful and his face never gave anything away remaining neutral and almost disinterested. Sam had noticed before that Dean was never cocky and over-confident when he was playing and it paid off every time. Sam himself had a hard time working his brother out so complete strangers had no chance at all. And Dean used it to his advantage. Sam was a decent player. Dean had taught him when he was eight. But Dean was an excellent and efficient player his skills honed over many years and even their father had given up trying to beat his brother. Sam turned his attention back to his brother with a smile.

"Whatever dude," Dean turned away scanning the bar area again. Sam studied his brother again. To a casual onlooker, Dean was just looking around the bar. But Sam knew better his brother was checking for any potential trouble or danger for them. Even when Dean was casually walking around a bar, Sam knew he was in full hunter mode ready for anything or anyone. It annoyed him most of the time, but it also made him feel safe. Always had done ever since he had been a child.

"You didn't have to take up their challenge," Sam said evenly. "You coulda said no."

Dean turned back to him. "A Winchester always accepts a challenge," Dean replied simply. "It's against the rules to say no."

Sam snorted. "Who made these stupid rules up?" he asked knowing full well that they were Dean's own rules.

Dean grinned. "I did."

"I shoulda known," Sam rolled his eyes. He leaned forward. "Do these rules count even when you're hurt?"

Dean glared at Sam. "I'm fine," he snapped. He turned away from Sam pretending to look around the bar again. There was no way that Dean was going to let Sam see where the freaky family had burned his shoulder. Sam was already feeling guilty enough about getting him hurt and Dean wasn't going to add to the guilt.

Sam nodded slowly staring at his brother. The cuts and bruises were starting to fade, but Sam knew there was another injury, one that Dean wouldn't let him see. Sam had noticed Dean favouring his left shoulder and wondered just what Dean was hiding from him. Sam felt a stab of guilt knowing that it was his fault although deep down he knew that Dean didn't blame him at all. He just couldn't help himself. He sighed. Sam hated it when Dean was being stubborn, but he could be just as stubborn and he was going to find out. He also knew the injury was the reason that Dean hadn't been hustling pool earlier. Sam smiled to himself. Even with an injured shoulder his brother had easily beaten his challengers.

Sam sighed again. He didn't want to fight with Dean so he decided to say nothing more about the injury for now. "So," he said. "Go on. I know you're dying to tell me. How much did you win?"

Dean turned back to him with a grin his bad mood forgotten. "Three hundred and twenty," he said. "Should pay for our room and keep us in gas and food for a couple of days or so." Dean took another swig of his beer.

Sam nodded with a smile. "And keep you away from credit card scams for a while," he said as he put the lid of the laptop down. "Man I hate when we have to do that."

Dean scowled at him. "Those scams keep us from sleeping in the Impala. Buys us gas and food. Quit complaining. I don't ask you to do it."

Sam ignored Dean. He knew that his brother was right but hell was going to freeze over before he admitted it. "I'm heading back to the room. You coming?" he asked.

"No. Gonna hang out here for a while," Dean turned eyeing the pretty waitress again. Sam rolled his eyes. Dean looked around again. "Here," he leaned forward surreptitiously pressing a wad of notes into Sam's hand. "Put this in our safe place," he instructed.

Sam stuffed the notes quickly into his pocket nodding. He collected his laptop and stood up. Dean stood too starting to follow Sam towards the door. "I thought you were staying," Sam said confused.

"Just gonna make sure you get back to the room OK," Dean shrugged.

"No you're not," Sam hissed. "The motel is just across the parking lot. I'm not a little kid Dean."

Dean pulled a face. "Last time you left a bar alone you did a disappearing act on me," he accused. "And it aint happening again. Not on my watch."

"Dean," Sam hissed again. "Go hustle some more... or go play with your little waitress," he snapped suddenly angry with his overly protective brother. "And stop being an asshole." Sam saw a flicker of hurt cross Dean's face and he immediately felt guilty. "I'll be fine," Sam softened his tone. "I promise not to get kidnapped. OK."

Dean stared at Sam for a moment. He wanted to protect Sam wanted to make up for his recent failure. But Sam was right, he wasn't a child anymore. "OK," he shrugged. "But I aint coming after this time," Dean stated. "You're on your own Sammy," Dean turned back heading towards the bar.

"Fine with me," Sam pushed the door to the bar open. He took a quick look over his shoulder. Dean was heading back over to the pretty waitress. Sam shook his head and stepped out into the fresh air.

* * *

An hour later, Dean leant on the bar nursing his beer. His shoulder was aching again and he closed his eyes against the pain. Dean knew that the pool games hadn't helped his shoulder but he could never resist a challenge. But now he had to admit to himself that the pain was making him feel sick and he pushed the beer bottle away. He didn't even feel like flirting with the waitress who had been giving him the eye for the last half an hour. Dean sighed to himself as he pushed himself away from the bar. He tossed some bills on the counter and moved towards the door deciding that after a good night's sleep he would be as good as new.

The cool air hit him as Dean stepped outside. He swayed slightly and grabbed for the handrail for support. He took a couple of deep breaths before starting down the steps and across the parking lot towards their room.

He heard them before he saw them. They were behind him and Dean swung around to be faced with three of his challengers. He rolled his eyes slightly but grinned cockily. "Gentlemen," he said. "Nice evening for a walk."

"You cheated," the smaller of the three accused stepping forwards. "And we want our money back."

Dean put his hands up in surrender. "You challenged me. And I beat your asses fair and square," he protested as he edged backwards glad that he had given the money to Sam to hide.

"Well now we want our money back," the middle man sneered edging closer to Dean. "Now."

"Yeah now," the taller man snapped as he lunged forwards. Dean expected the move and stepped smoothly to one side. The man sailed past and hit the ground with a grunt.

"Jeff. You OK?" the smaller man shouted keeping his eyes on Dean who was still edging backwards away from the men.

Dean considered taking his chance and running but he knew he probably wouldn't be able to outrun all three men. "Great," he sighed to himself deciding that his only option was to fight and hope he got in some lucky punches before they beat him senseless.

"Yeah Steve. You and Aaron get him," Jeff hissed as he scrabbled to his feet.

Dean looked over to the other two men. They both moved forward. Dean moved backwards knowing he couldn't dodge them both. Dean struck out hitting Aaron a glancing blow before turning on Steve hoping to get in a punch. Steve caught him by surprise by grabbing his arm and twisting slightly and painfully. Dean let out a yelp of pain as Aaron joined Steve and the two men dragged him into the alleyway between two sets of motel room blocks. Dean squirmed in their grip kicking out as they forced him into the alleyway. His foot connected with Aaron's shin. The man let out a yelp before back-handing Dean across the face re-opening the healing cut on his forehead.

Dean could feel blood running down his face and he grit his teeth against the pain as they slammed him up against the wall holding him tight. He writhed trying to get free but they tightened their grip. "Now what?" Steve asked over his shoulder.

"Now we teach him a lesson he won't forget," Jeff snarled as he balled his fist and slammed it hard into Dean's stomach. Dean knew what was coming and tried to twist out of the way. Jeff's fist hit him in the stomach taking his breath away. Dean bent over double as his other two attackers let him go laughing loudly.

Rubbing at his stomach and taking a deep breath Dean straightened up glaring at Jeff. Before Jeff could take a step forward and aim another punch Dean narrowed his eyes and jabbed his elbow to one side hitting Aaron hard in the ribs. Aaron huffed in pain bringing his arms around his middle. Jeff hadn't expected the move and stopped in surprise. Dean took his chance and kicked out slamming his foot hard against the man's knee pushing with all his strength. Jeff lost his balance and dropped to the ground again. Quickly bringing his arm up Dean made a fist slamming it backwards connecting with Aaron's face. Aaron squealed in pain as his head bounced off the brick wall and he slumped to the ground dazed his nose broken and bleeding.

Ignoring Jeff, Dean turned on Steve and hit him with a right hook. Staggering backwards Steve ducked Dean's second blow. Recovering he threw himself at Dean catching him a glancing blow to the chin. Dean stumbled and fell to his knees. Steve moved forwards quickly and kicked Dean in the stomach. Steve cackled a triumphant laugh stepping backwards. The laugh spurred Dean on and with a groan he dragged himself to his feet. He swayed slightly before drawing himself up to his full height. Confident, Steve went to hit Dean again. Dean dodged out of his way and jabbed a surprised looking Steve again hard in the middle of his face. With a howl of pain Steve put his hand up to his nose wiping at the blood. Growling he advanced on Dean. Dean was ready for him and hit the man hard again in the face. Steve stumbled backwards hitting his head on the wall. He slumped to the ground unconscious.

Scrabbling to his feet, Jeff launched himself at Dean smacking him in the eye. Dean stumbled again but managed to get his own punch in, his fist connecting with the man's jaw. Dean bit at his lip as Jeff grabbed his left arm. Pain lanced through his shoulder and tears of pain sprang to his eyes. Jeff grinned at his obvious pain and twisted Dean's arm again. Dean cried out and tried to push Jeff away with his good arm. Jeff hit him in the stomach again and Dean reeled back nearly losing his balance as he managed to shove Jeff away from him. Dean dodged to the left as Jeff took another swing at him. Taking a deep breath against the pain Dean kicked out with his right foot connecting with Jeff's stomach lifting him off the ground a few inches. Jeff clutched at his stomach groaning before dropping to his knees his head resting on the ground. Dean put his foot on Jeff's side and pushed him over onto the ground. Jeff looked up at Dean and glared.

"We're done here," Dean swayed as he surveyed the three men on the ground. He held his arm across his stomach. "And I don't cheat," he hissed as he started to jog along the alleyway. Dean decided to head away from the motel and double back in a half hour or so in case they decided to follow him.

* * *

Half an hour later...

Dean checked both ways before heading towards their room. He felt like his shoulder was on fire, his stomach felt bruised and his eye and head hurt. His whole body felt battered and the pain was making him feel dizzy. Dean's legs felt like a lead weight but he forced his feet forwards until he reached their door. He took a deep breath hoping that Sam was in bed asleep. Opening the door Dean sighed in relief the room was in darkness. He stepped quietly into the room but staggered and accidentally knocked the table. Dean steadied himself by clutching the edge of the table.

"You better not be drunk," Sam murmured from one of the beds. "Because I'm not cleaning up after you."

"I'm not drunk," Dean managed to say trying to keep the quiver out of his voice. Feeling shaky Dean hung onto the table afraid that his legs would give way. His once heavy legs now felt like jelly and he tightened his grip on the table.

"Good," Sam huffed as he turned over pulling the comforter further up. Sam was angry at Dean. Even though he said he wouldn't Sam had seen his brother standing at the door to the bar watching as he crossed the parking lot towards their room. Sam had seethed all night about Dean continuing to treat him like a small child. He lifted his head and pummelled his pillow into shape. He slammed his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes.

Dean ignored Sam's obvious bad mood and focussed on the bathroom door willing his feet to move. "You can do this," he encouraged himself. He took a step forward swaying again but managed to make it to the bathroom closing the door behind him. Dean stared into the mirror. A pale blood streaked face stared back at him. "You look like hell," he murmured to himself as he poked gently at his blackening eye.

He carefully slipped off his over shirt and then his t-shirt which made him want to howl in pain as he lifted his arm up. Dean studied the purple and black bruising which had started to form across his stomach and he rubbed lightly at it with one hand. Moving one hand upwards Dean carefully fingered the dressing he had put on the burn that morning and gently peeled it away. The skin around the burn was red and raw and the wound was open as the blisters had burst and were oozing slightly. The pain seemed overpowering for a moment and Dean took a few deep breaths pushing down the urge to throw up. His body was tired, hurt and only his stubbornness had kept him on his feet. Dean looked back towards the mirror and blinked twice as his reflection seemed to fade into a misty light that threatened to overwhelm him. His knees began to buckle and Dean grabbed onto the wash basin. Dean could feel himself falling down into a black hole and vaguely felt his body hit the floor. He surrendered to the darkness.

Sam turned over and punched his pillow again. He squinted over to the other bed. It was empty. "Dean," he raised his head up looking around the room. The bathroom door was still closed and Sam turned his head concentrating. He heard a thump. Sam rolled his eyes and laid his head back down on his pillow. "You can sleep on the floor for all I care," he thought to himself angrily as he closed his eyes. He immediately opened them again - something was nagging at him. Sam sat up searching his memory for what was bothering him. He switched on the bedside lamp. And then it came to him in a flash and he leapt out of bed heading towards the bathroom. It was the way Dean had spoken to him when he came into the room. It hadn't been right Dean hadn't sounded like himself.

"Are you OK in there?" Sam hammered on the door. Silence. "Dean," he yelled again before pushing the door open to see his brother laying on the floor unconscious. "Dean," he rushed forwards dropping to his knees. Carefully pulling Dean onto his side Sam checked his breathing. It was deep and even. Dean's face was flushed although he looked extremely pale. He glanced at Dean's other injuries gasping in horror as his eyes rested on his brother's reddened shoulder. Cursing Dean for his stubbornness he retrieved a damp cloth from the basin and gently wiped Dean's face cleaning the blood from the re-opened cut on his forehead.

Dean began to mumble as he regained consciousness. He swatted at the cloth with his hand. Dean opened his eyes. He blinked trying to focus. The mist cleared and Dean looked up at a worried looking Sam staring down at him. "What happened?" he muttered struggling to sit up despite Sam's efforts to try and push him back down onto the floor.

"Looks like you went ten rounds with a truck," Sam said giving up trying to keep Dean laying on the floor. He helped his brother sit up before running the cloth under the cold water again.

"I think the truck won," Dean groaned as he leant back against the side of the bath tub.

"You look like crap man," Sam pressed the cold damp cloth to Dean's eye hoping that it would take some of the swelling down.

"Ouch," Dean tried to pull away. "You're hurting Doctor Heavy-Handed," Dean swatted Sam's hand away holding onto the cloth himself. "Where did you learn your bedside manner?"

"From you," Sam shot back. "And don't be such a baby." Sam grinned as Dean glared at him with one eye. "And just what the hell happened?" Sam asked.

"Guess my pool friends weren't good losers," Dean answered with a grimace as he started to drag himself to his feet. "They thought I was hustling them. So they kinda thought they'd teach me a lesson."

"And you thought I needed watching to walk across the parking lot," Sam shook his head. He watched Dean struggle to his feet and cursed his stubborn brother but knew it was useless to try and get Dean to stay sitting on the floor.

Dean glared at him again. "They came up behind me," he defended. "But I left them on their asses feeling sorry for themselves."

"And you need to sit down before you fall on your ass again," Sam protested as he moved to his brother's side.

"Whatever dude," Dean ignored Sam pulling away from him as he moved slowly towards the door. He swayed suddenly and grabbed for the door frame to steady himself.

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation and took Dean's elbow firmly steering him towards the bed. "But you weren't hustling tonight. You were an innocent bystander," he repeated Dean's own words.

Dean shot Sam a sideways look raising his eyes in surprise. "I thought my name and innocent didn't belong in the same sentence," Dean grinned at Sam as he sunk down onto the bed.

"It's a special occasion," Sam quipped.

Dean chuckled which turned into a groan as he leaned forward holding onto his bruised stomach. "Damn that hurts," he admitted through gritted teeth.

"I'll get you some ice for the bruising in a moment," Sam said as he grabbed their first aid kit. "Let me look," Sam bent down and pressed his fingers up and down Dean's stomach and abdomen. Dean hissed in pain at each touch. "Sorry," Sam apologised. "I don't think you broke any ribs. Just badly bruised."

Dean nodded as he closed his eyes. "I don't need ice. Your fingers are cold," he complained.

"Don't be a girl," Sam teased as he turned his attention to finishing cleaning up the cut on Dean's forehead fixing a dressing in place. With a deep breath he turned his attention to Dean's shoulder. "So," he said looking at his brother. "This is what you've been hiding from me?"

Dean opened his eyes and stared at Sam. He shrugged wincing at the movement. "It's no biggie," he muttered.

"Yes... Yes it is a biggie," Sam argued. "Dean. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Look Sammy," Dean sighed. "What can I say ... bad stuff happens sometimes," he shrugged again. "They were freaks and they got their kicks outta burning me. But what they did to me was nothing compared to what they did to those other guys. And what difference would it have made if I had told you... oh yeah you'd feel guilty all over the place."

"Would not," Sam sulked but knew that Dean was right but was damned if he was going to admit it to his brother.

"What's done is done. And it's over. OK?" Dean continued determined.

Sam studied his brother's determined expression and he sensed this was an argument he wasn't going to win. He sighed in surrender. "OK," he said reluctantly. He peered closely at Dean's shoulder. "I think we should take you to the Emergency Room. It looks bad," he said.

"No," Dean replied. "There's some burn dressings and cream in my bag. Just patch me up. And I'll be good to go."

"Dean," Sam protested although he grabbed for Dean's bag and scrabbled about until he found the sterile dressings and cream. "I still think you need professional treatment at the hospital."

"OK," Dean conceded. He hissed in pain as Sam carefully dabbed cream on and around the burn area.

Sam stared at him in surprise. "Really?" he couldn't help asking. Dean nodded. "I'm glad for once you see it my way," Sam smirked in triumph. "I'll just put this on temporarily and then we'll get going." As gently as he could Sam laid the dressing over the reddened area and secured it with some tape.

"Yeah. You can take my shoulder," Dean grinned at Sam. "But the rest of me aint coming along on your little trip."

Sam's triumphant smile faded immediately. "You win this time," he muttered angrily knowing that he was never going to get his brother to the hospital unless he knocked him out first. Sam toyed with the thought for a moment before dismissing it deciding that he wanted to live to see his next birthday. Mumbling under his breath Sam got up and pulled the pillows off both beds and arranged them on one bed. "You are so... so," Sam was lost for words for a moment.

"Cuddly, handsome, loveable," Dean helped him out with another grin.

Sam pulled a face. "Lay back and don't move," he pointed at the pillows. "I'm gonna get you some ice for your eye and stomach." He grabbed the ice bucket from the table.

"Yes sir," Dean teased as he struggled to lay back against the pillows. He sighed as he lay back into their softness. "Thanks Sammy," Dean murmured as he closed his eyes.

"It's Sam," Sam shot back. "And when I get back you are showing me how to apply for a fake credit card. I was never as good as you and Dad. So it's about time you showed me the finer points."

"It'll be a Dean master class," Dean grinned as he opened his eyes to look at Sam. He cocked his head to one. "You sure Sammy?" he asked. "I thought it was against all them principles of yours."

Sam snorted. "What principles? I think you're a bad influence on me," he pointed a finger at Dean. "And you are not hustling for a while."

"I thought you said I wasn't hustling tonight," Dean couldn't help saying. He shot Sam another grin.

"Dean," Sam said frustrated as he pulled a face at his brother. Dean just grinned again. "I am getting ice. You are not hustling for a while," Sam said determined. "And you are teaching me how to apply for a fake credit card."

"My Sammy's all grown up," Dean teased.

"Jerk," Sam pulled the door open.

"Bitch," Dean countered as the door slammed behind his brother.

**  
END**


End file.
